The Broken-Hearts Club
by Avoline Malfoy
Summary: They all had something in common. And they all felt the same kind of pain. So why not drink and agree to disagree?


_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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 _Plot bunnies, everywhere!_

 _Now, this time, it's just a little male bonding. This one-shot will tie together my other two. You'll know which ones soon enough._

 _So, sit back and enjoy!_

 _Love always,_

 _Avoline_

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Gabriel sighed as he took another swig of beer. He glanced at the scars along his wrist, and contemplated grabbing a blade again. It had been weeks since they had burned Emily's bones, and he was no closer to finding the leader of nest that killed her. His heart ached more and more each day, and he wanted nothing more than to visit her. But Heaven was still locked tight, and Hell was pure chaos. He wasn't sure where her soul had went, and that hurt more than loosing her.

"What the bloody hell are you wearing?"

He glanced up to see Crowley sauntering towards him, a glass of whiskey in hand. The former demon looked even more depressed than usual, and the angel could see the lines where the darker man wasn't getting enough sleep.

"I'll tell you if you tell me why you look like you just lost everything," he shot back. The Scot sighed and sat across the table from the blond. He loosened his tie and popped the top button of his shirt before reaching inside.

"Cause I basically did," he answered, holding the ring in his palm, the chain still looped around his neck. "This was supposed to be on the finger of a beautiful, wonderful, and kind woman. She, of course, had no clue. It was going to be a surprise." His lower lip trembled, and tears formed along the edge of his eyelid. "She was so beautiful. I can still hear her voice some times." Gabe looked away, flooded with sympathy. "What's your story?"

"Similar to yours," he replied. "She was 21. Hadn't been hunting long, was absorbing every little tip and trick any hunter passed on to her, and when she wasn't killing something, she liked to crochet. She made this," he gestured to the scarf around his neck, "for me. I laughed initially, said what use did I have for a scarf." The urge to cut was stronger now, but he fought back. "She had went to take out a nest of vampires by herself, and I wasn't fast enough to stop or even save her. I couldn't even bring her back. I just sat next to the bed for two weeks, slicing myself up and keeping her from decaying." He heard Crowley make a sound, one that could have easily been missed.

"Let me guess: you never told her how you felt," he murmured. The angel shook his head.

"I kept putting it off," he breathed. "First, because I didn't want to scare her away. She was everything I wanted. Then the big fight between Mike and Luci, and laying low so that no one knew I was alive, and before I knew it..." He took a deep breath, meeting Crowley's gaze. "Before I knew it, my chance was gone. I've been hunting the only vamp that survive for weeks, and I'm no closer to finding him. I promised Cas when we burned her body that I wouldn't do anything stupid, but it's getting harder and harder to keep going."

"Welcome to the Winchester curse."

Both men looked up to see Sam and Dean step in the library, beers in hand and sympathy shining in their eyes. The golden-eyed man watched as they took the two empty seats at the table.

"The ones we love end up killed," Dean commented as he took a sip of his beer. "Mom, Dad, Bobby, Ellen, all of them."

"We thought it was confined to just the two of us," Sam offered, meeting Gabriel's gaze. "We were wrong. And now, it's claimed the one's you two loved."

"Don't," Gabriel interrupted. "I know what you're going to say next, and don't. I fell in love with a hunter. I knew what I was getting myself into. If there's anyone, or anything, is to blame for Emily's death, it's me." He took an unnecessary breath, trying to keep his composure from breaking. "I should have begged her, or hell, forced her, to stop hunting. I should have done something to protect her. But I didn't. I went into hiding, I hurt her in the process, and now she's _dead._ " A tear slipped down his face. "I could have saved her, and I didn't. That's on me. Not you, not Dean, not even dear old Dad. Me."

"Look here, you feathery son of a bitch," Crowley growled, shocking everyone at the table. "You had no way of stopping her. You had about as much control over her as I did over my girl. You couldn't have made her stop hunting, not if she was as strongly motivated as these denim clad nightmares. The woman I lost had a damn good reason for doing what she did, even though it killed her." The tears returned, and he didn't stop them. "She was trying to protect me from those residents of Hell that wanted me dead, while I was doing what I had to to try and give her a normal life. She gave all she had to protect me. And I was powerless to stop her."

"Hey, I watched mine burn on the ceiling of my apartment," Sam chimed in. "We all know how it feels to be helpless, and how it feels to loose the one you love." Golden eyes met green.

"Only one of us had a choice," the archangel muttered. "And I have to say, I don't think I could have done it, Dean. I'm far too selfish, and I know it. You're the strongest one at this table just by that choice alone." The hunter took a sip of his beer.

"Wasn't easy," he grunted, hurt lacing his voice. "I wanted to keep her safe, and the only way to do that was to wipe myself from her life and my son's life. I'm nothing more than the man who hit them and had the gall to apologize." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's better than them being dead."

"I'll drink to that," the former-demon stated, raising his glass to his lips.

"You would," Gabe grumbled. Dean raised his bottle.

"How about to knowing you're alive," he commented. "Cause if we didn't feel pain, we wouldn't know what it meant to live." The other three nodded.

And so started the Broken-hearts club.


End file.
